


Words from a Mercenary

by xmasxray



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kinda, M/M, Mention of Unhealthy Relationship, Minor Violence, Season 12 spoilers, Season 13 spoilers, it's very brief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:29:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4393703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmasxray/pseuds/xmasxray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words can hurt more than any wound ever could. Tucker knows this better than anyone, with all he had been through with Felix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words from a Mercenary

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this honestly I don't know what happened. Also I managed to write a thing with Felix in it that isn't told from Felix's perspective, so that's new. I hope you enjoy!

Tucker and Felix were a thing, and as much as they tried to hide that, tried to act like all they did was argue, the people around them could tell. They didn’t say anything about it, though, because seriously? Piss off Felix? They may have been in a war but that didn’t mean the soldiers had a death wish.

When Felix revealed his true intentions, described what exactly had been going on, the moment he had said, “nice throw, Tucker,” the group knew precisely what just happened.

Tucker’s single spoken word, a quiet, questioning “ _Felix_ ” was enough to display the flood of emotions the soldier was experiencing. It hurt to watch.

Wash tried to talk to him about it once they got back to as close to safety as they could be, but there was no way Tucker was talking about that, _ever_. It was a part of him that was over and done with, and while the effects of it loomed over him like an eternal shadow, if he refused to address it, because if he didn’t, then it wasn’t really there. That worked well enough.

When the plan to save Chorus was organized, Tucker declared that _he_ was to be the one that dealt with Felix, and if anyone were to prevent him from doing so, they’d end up with a certain glowing sword in their abdomen. No one fought him on it, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have their concerns. Still, Tucker was permitted to be the one to face Felix at the Capitol.

When Felix stabbed him and proceeded to point a pistol at his head, the heavily bleeding wound was the thing that hurt the least. Though he’d never admit that. Not out loud. Especially when Tucker was barely able to admit it to himself.

Then there was that time on the cliff with Doyle, after he’d gotten the sword from the Federal Army leader, when Felix threatened him yet again.

“Not many people get the best of me, but no one gets the best of me and lives to tell about it.”

Tucker was numb to it at this point. All of the mercenary’s threats meant nothing to him. The spark he felt what seemed to be forever ago caught fire and developed into a burning flame of hatred for him, one that wouldn’t go out until Tucker died with it.

Then Felix got into all of their radios again, alone this time. His tone of voice was very uncharacteristic. It wasn’t the snarky asshole they usually had to deal with, nor was it the mercenary with the ability to terrify anyone with a single word. This was somehow a mix of the two, with the addition of pure anger and a bit of what seemed to be defeat.

He first clarified that he still wasn’t on their side, seeing as he didn’t care about the people of the planet more than he ever had. However, he wasn’t against them either, because he too wanted Locus dead. He explained that trouble had been stirring between the two after they both entered the gateway, and when Terrence was added to the mix things spiraled down into hell faster than they had been. He was then deemed entirely unreliable by the Chairman after a certain incident that nearly ended in him cutting off Sharkface’s head. Felix was cut from the paycheck, and everyone knew that the quickest way to piss off the mercenary was to get in between him and his money. All that mattered to him was getting revenge for that, and he’d be damned if the reds and blues got in his way.

“I don’t fucking care if you don’t trust me, but I’ll leave you alone if you don’t bother me.”

Wash spoke up as usual. “How do we know you aren’t lying to us?”

“You can’t know that.”

“What a ringing endorsement,” Grif muttered.

Tucker hadn’t said a thing the whole time and was doing his best to block the voice out of his head. He only spoke to shout a “ _fuck no_ ” in response to what Washington had said.

“We don’t trust you for a second, but if you give us the sword back, we can help you get what you want. Meet us with it at the New Republic tomorrow and we have a deal.”

Felix just laughed at Tucker’s outburst, “got a problem, _Lavernius_?” No reply came other than an irritated huff. “Just know that if you try anything funny, I can and _will_ kill you.”

Wash managed to get in a “same goes to you” before the connection was cut off.

There were heated arguments about it all night long. Tucker wasn’t the only one who had an issue believing anything the merc said, but they were outnumbered. It was decided that having someone who knew the enemy as well as he did _and_ could actually fight would be a good addition. They just needed to keep him on a short leash.

To their surprise, Felix actually showed up at the New Republic alone. There was doubt, but Freckles confirmed that he was the only one there. He’d held up his arms and tossed the sword to Washington, who easily caught it.

“Believe me yet?”

Tucker shook his head and glared at him, “not even close.”

It became Wash and Carolina’s job to keep the two separate at all times. It didn’t work. How could it? The two were magnetic, endlessly drawn to each other. Things between them started to fall back into place, admittedly a little too quickly, back to the way they were. The hatred between them, specifically on Tucker’s end, became laced with something else entirely. Tucker hated it. The flame wasn’t gone, not entirely, and he couldn’t ever trust Felix again, but still, the feelings were flooding back. Tucker was drowning.

Those around him noticed, and tried to talk him out of it. Naturally, he didn’t listen. It was too late anyway. He was in too deep.

This time, the relationship wasn’t warm kisses off in any secluded space they could find in the New Republic. This time it was all fists and teeth and it was a drug and Tucker was addicted.

Then came the be-all and end-all.

They planned their attack carefully, grateful to have another actual military mind assisting on this one. Ready to go, they split into teams, each group leading their own group of soldiers: Felix and Tucker, team one. Wash, Carolina, and Caboose, team two. Kimball and the reds, team three. Doyle was to be protected back at the base by the lieutenants and some others.

Tucker was reluctant to work with Felix. He’d earned a significant amount of trust, but not enough to settle the strange feeling stirring around in Tucker’s gut. In an attempt to ease that feeling, he’d done something that he hadn’t done in so long that he’d forgotten the feeling: he grabbed Felix’s hand. He held it as they walked onto the ship, on full alert. It made him feel a little better when the other squeezed it, possibly a bit too hard, though that was to be expected given the current state of their relationship. Tucker didn’t think anything of it other than the presence that could, and hopefully would, protect him if it came down to it.

They had to let the connection fall once the battles began. There were far more men on their path than they’d planned for, and they lost a lot of their soldiers, but the two stuck together and made it through. After a lot of fighting, the two and no more than five of their group made it to a room where Locus was stood with a group of his own men.

Something in Felix changed, and he quickly reached over and squeezed Tucker’s hand again before they began to fight their way towards Locus. The way Felix held himself, the way he fought, it was tense. Something was off and it was throwing Tucker off as well.

Then Locus was the only one left, stood pointing his gun at Felix silently. Words were being exchanged without being spoken, and then Felix lets out a puff of air that sounds too much like a laugh for Tucker to feel anything but the harsh churning of his stomach.

_No, not again._

“Fuck, that was even more difficult than last time,” he laughed and pulled his knife quickly out of someone’s chest, walking slowly towards Tucker. “I even had to kill so many of my own men. Oh well, you win some and you lose some.”

Tucker backed up and shook his head, pointing his sword at the mercenary. “No… Felix,” he barely choked out, his words caught in his throat, suffocating him slowly.

“Oh God, don’t sound so _heartbroken_. You knew this was coming.”

And he did. He really did. Tucker needed to learn when to stop riding high off the hopes that things could be okay in the end. In war there was only death and lies, and even after all these years, he couldn’t get his head wrapped around that.

Felix flipped the blade around in his hand before thrusting it into Tucker’s stomach. “No one gets the best of me and lives to tell about it,” he repeated, pulling off both his and Tucker’s helmets and staring at the dark, watery eyes too betrayed to display any form of hatred. Felix placed a harsh kiss on the other’s mouth, only pulling away when Locus grunted a low “enough.”

Felix wiped the blood from his own lips and took the sword from Tucker’s hands. “Goodnight, Tucker. This was fun.”

That was the last thing Lavernius Tucker ever heard, and somehow, once again, the fatal wound didn’t hurt as bad as the words from a mercenary that betrayed him too many times.


End file.
